Elspeth - 1954

Elspeth was given to Margaret “Maggie” Weatherly shortly after she was committed to Briar Glen Asylum in the summer of 1954. Sixteen years old and completely withdrawn, Maggie had fallen under a disturbing delusion-she believed she was a lycanthrope. Doctors scribbled terms like “clinical zoanthropy” in their notes, but Maggie’s obsession went far beyond textbook diagnosis. She tore out chunks of her own hair during what she called her “change nights,” insisting she could feel her bones shifting beneath her skin. To help calm her, an orderly gave her the pale porcelain doll they later named Elspeth-a soft-featured thing with a head full of rooted brown hair. For a while, the doll seemed to soothe her. But then Elspeth began to change. Locks of her hair started vanishing overnight. Maggie swore she never touched the doll- “She’s doing it on her own,” she whispered. “She’s becoming like me.” Nurses found Maggie crouched beside the doll’s stand most nights, murmuring to her in a language no one recognized—low and growling, barely human. Despite constant supervision, the doll’s hair continued to thin. One staff member reported waking to the sound of dragging footsteps and soft scratching outside her door. When she opened it, there was nothing-only the faint scent of earth and something…animal. On the night of a full moon in October, Maggie disappeared. Her room was locked from the inside. The window was barred. There was no sign of forced entry...only claw-like gouges on the floor, tufts of hair on the pillow, and Elspeth sitting upright on the bed, her glassy eyes turned toward the moonlight. Maggie was never seen again. But Elspeth remained behind, her expression subtly different...now wilder, more alert. And her hair? It hasn’t grown back.